


Good Morning

by Chaosreigning



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 13:26:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2389901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaosreigning/pseuds/Chaosreigning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last thing Tim expects when he walks into his kitchen is the huge, wide-shouldered form hunched over his kitchen counter. He’s… Not entirely certain? But he thinks it might be one of his new neighbors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heartslogos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartslogos/gifts).



> I know I don’t post fics often, but with heartslogos having her birthday so recently and timtober beginning and all… Well. I couldn’t resist.

The last thing Tim expects when he walks into his kitchen is the huge, wide-shouldered form hunched over his kitchen counter. He’s… Not entirely certain? But he thinks it might be one of his new neighbors. Considering the guy has his face mashed into the granite, it’s a little hard to tell for sure.

“Uh,” Tim manages, blinking, and completely fails to come up with a more articulate protest to the invasion. It’s, like, nine in the morning and he hasn’t had any coffee yet. The man at the counter waves an arm back at him anyway, motioning for him to shut up without lifting his head.

“Hangover,” the Hulk (he really is a giant, and what Tim can see of his skin looks vaguely green, so that’s what he’s going with) rasps after a moment, and it sounds like it really cost him to do it. “Coffee.”

Tim squints, and after a moment, processes that yes, there is in fact a mug sitting near the Hulk’s head and his kitchen smells like coffee.

Hunh. Not a want-induced hallucination, then.

Cool.

Tim shuffles the rest of the way into the kitchen and pulls his blanket up a little higher around his shoulders as he peers into the mug at the Hulk’s side. Half full. Tim changes his grip on his blanket corners and snakes a hand out, snatching the mug and tossing the remainder back.   _Ugh_. Cream and sugar. It  _really_  needs cream and sugar.

And  _he_  really needs more than half a cup of coffee, so Tim shuffles over to his coffee machine next, clutching at the mug as he squints into the carafe. Holy Mother of Jesus, there’s still plenty coffee already in it. He doesn’t have to wait for it to brew; he can just drink it. It’s a miracle.  **The**  miracle. Tim is pretty sure this is a thing he’s been praying for since he was twelve.

“Okay,” he tells the Hulk, the first hit of caffeine making (short, simple) sentences a thing he's actually capable of again, “you can stay.”

The Hulk grunts. Tim returns to the counter with the mug newly refilled and appropriately doctored a few minutes later and climbs up onto one of the other stools, drawing his feet up onto the seat after him. Stephanie thankfully made him get stools with backs, so he doesn’t need to think about balancing or anything else that’s currently beyond his ability to manage. It’s nice.

Tim is nursing his second (and a half) cup of coffee and more or less properly awake when the Hulk finally picks up his head. He doesn’t look green anymore as he looks at the place the mug used to be, then at Tim. Tim stares back, wide-eyed and hoping like hell he’s not gaping, because  _fucking hell, the Hulk is drop-dead **gorgeous**._

“…Did you steal my coffee?” Hulk asks incredulously, and yes – he has a voice attractive enough to match his face. Tim is  _definitely_  gaping.

“I. Uh.”  _Nnnnng_. Work, brain, work. Fuck. “Technically you stole mine first?”

The Hulk considers that for a second, then shrugs. “Fair enough. I’m Jason.”

‘Hulk’ isn’t very fitting now that he isn’t green anymore anyway.

“Tim.”

There was something more he should be asking, wasn’t there? Or… Something.

Tim takes another sip of his coffee.

Oh. Right.

“…Why are you in my apartment?”

Jason’s eyebrows kick up in slight amusement.

“ _Hangover_. Roy broke our coffee machine and you’re right across the hall,” he answers, and damnit, he sounds amused, too. “You don’t do very well in the morning, do you?”

“Fuck you,” Tim mutters, and hunches in around his coffee mug defensively. A smirk tugs at Jason’s mouth, and damn him twice. Looking that attractive should be illegal. Breaking into people’s apartments is  _definitely_  illegal, so maybe Tim should get Dick to arrest him anyway.

“Give me, like, ten minutes to shower and change, and I’ll make you breakfast,” Jason offers in return, and Tim slants him a suspicious, narrow-eyed look. He isn’t smirking anymore, at least not entirely: that expression looked mostly more smiley than smirky, but it’s not actually an improvement because Jason is still stupidly and illegally gorgeous. “ _Then_  we can get to the fucking part. I  _am_  a gentleman, you know.”

Aaaand Tim is back to gaping. What do you even  _say_  to something like that? Seriously, it –

Jason laughs and pushes Tim’s mouth closed with one finger under his chin, then leans in and kisses Tim softly. Tim… Is completely at sea.

But.

Yes.  ** _Please_**.

“Indirect isn’t really my style,” Jason explains in a murmur as he draws back, and gives Tim’s mug a light tap. “I was starting to get jealous. Ten minutes, okay?”

Then he’s gone, leaving Tim frozen in his seat. After a minute, the situation finally sank in. Jason was coming back to cook him breakfast and there was most likely going to be more kisses and Tim is wearing the really embarrassing (but incredibly comfortable) Nightwing pajamas Conner had given him for his birthday under his blanket.  _Tim does not want Jason to see his really embarrassing Nightwing pajamas._

He scrambles to get off of his stool and go change, getting tangled up in his blanket in his rush and squeaking as the stool topples over with him still in it.

Fuck.


End file.
